Joined: 07 Mar 2006
Location: Under an emu.
|Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2008 8:47 am Post subject: Chapter 7: Disturbance
|Ishomilken IX - Moon 12 - Mercantile Club Bureau
July 16, 110 YC
I’ve felt like this before. Like there’s something missing.
She stood on a balcony overlooking the massive, dull, steel-grey hangar below. A Navy Issue Raven was in for repairs today, not hers, but an impressive sight nevertheless. Bright blue wielding sparks blew wildly from around its asymmetrical wings as brand new titanium diborite plates were wielded on, giving the longest wing a slightly greater shine than the rest of the gargantuan battleship.
Some light artificial breeze – she didn’t know where it came from – flicked black hair over her shoulders. She thought it felt good against her face, so she stayed where she was, lost in contemplation as her eyes barely focused on the blue fireflies in the distance and the repair drones that danced with them.
A sworn Liberal since she was old enough to know what the word meant in Caldari society, Kyoko Sakoda had always been idealistic. Her affluent and well respected mother, an Achuran scientist by the name of Yukiko Itsu, had made sure in every possible way that she kept an open mind. In fact, she also urged her young daughter to study Gallentean, to no objection. And in the end, her background was accentuated by the very fact that she had successfully become a capsuleer, despite her mother’s seemingly contrary objection to that.
But her three and a half years in space made her less certain of her original convictions. She had seen the death of her parents and was mostly alone in a cruel, unforgiving universe. Ishukone, her parent corporation, had committed acts of violence against her that she did not understand. The young woman of mixed Deteis and Achuran ancestry, once innocent, had fought back as well. Her employer delivered a crippling retaliatory blow to Ishukone Corporation, something she almost regretted in the aftermath of the Malkalen disaster of only a couple months past.
She felt now that Otro Gariushi, the man she once hated perhaps beyond reason, was the only one holding a collapsing Caldari State together. Bowing her head over the railing she leaned against, she reflected on this. Heart thumping against her ribcage as a reminder, she gritted her teeth as she remembered how much she hated the man named Tibus Heth. There was a feeling somewhere in her gut that he had deceived the Caldari people willingly, and that he was responsible for Gariushi’s death in order to gain politically, but she had no evidence.
Not that she thought she should try and gather any. At the precipice of war she knew any accusations made against the State’s dictator would fall on deaf ears as the insane ramblings of a crazed jaalan, a dissenter. She was becoming jaalan more and more by the day, though with the Second Gallente-Caldari War already being fought vigorously in Placid and Black Rise, she was enraged to the point of disaffection. She didn’t understand how her countrymen could be led so astray by a bigot and a fascist, but she knew somewhere out there were still Caldari who saw things not in black and white but in shades of grey as she did. Still, she wanted desperately to take shots at the Caldari Navy, having felt so betrayed.
Where the thin line is drawn between idealism and madness, she thought to herself as she rocked against the rails, is the line at which the worst viciousness explodes forth like wicked thorns from the seed of sentiment.
It was her own idealism that she was beginning to recognize the danger of, because the whole cluster had gone insane with the notion of self-righteousness. As a supporter of the Angel Cartel, the only fully multiracial criminal organization in the cluster, she had crusaded against the resurgent Sansha’s Nation encroaching on territory dangerously close to not only the Angel home region of Curse, but Empire space as well. She was terrified of the Nation and their assimilative techniques which included brainwashing and control via enhanced cybernetics.
She had become a crusader, but her friend Aria Jenneth more so. And she had gone insane. Kyoko was worried that Aria’s deep hatred of the Nation, a hatred she shared, had only convinced her further that she was walking the correct path, including the one that made her shudder: the realization that humanity was doomed and that capsuleers, as a sort of new species all their own, were the future.
All this insanity was becoming unacceptable to her.
Kyoko sighed as she rubbed her temples gently. The hustle and bustle at the busy bar behind her was of no help, and she felt a headache might be coming on. And at the worst of times, some drunkard started shouting as the sound of glass shattering on the floor resounded across the room.
“Hey… I said hey all you there!” the man stuttered with great volume. “I want to pro-p-p-propose a toast... to the Caldari State, and all our nation has achieved under the guiding hand of our g-glorious and compassionate leader Tibus Heth.”
Kyoko cringed a little, placing her hands back on the cold handrail and closing her eyes. A ruckus of acknowledgment boomed behind her as a multitude of tumblers and mugs clinked together, drowning out even the buzzing of the repair drones in the hangar below.
“Little lady, are you gonna drink with us?”
Kyoko looked slightly over her shoulder, brown eyes wary of another man’s advance, this one a lanky Deteis. He had some stupid grin latched onto his face that instantly made her hate him.
“I’m not drinking tonight. I just came here for the view.”
“The view?” the man chuckled hoarsely. “It’s the brotherhood that you come for.”
“No, it isn’t,” she replied.
She could feel him closing in on her, even without her ocular implants aiding in clearing up her peripheral vision.
“What’ya saying? You’re Caldari, aren’t you?”
Some of the customers closest to her were also looking at her now.
“Then why not join us?”
She wanted to smirk at that point, quite aware of what she was going to say. She felt confrontational, wanting to prove a point, even if it meant a beating.
“’Cause the State’s done nothing good for me recently.”
At that there was the sound of at least two chairs sliding against the laminated floor as a broadly-built Civire man and his female companion stood up and stared at her with cold intent. The Deteis breathing down her neck was almost gritting his teeth.
“You say the State’s done noth—”
“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you—”
The now visibly angry Deteis man grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward him, to which Kyoko responded immediately by thrusting her opposing elbow into his gut. The man could have hurled with a stomach so full of poison, but had little time to even growl in pain before she spun completely and punched him square in the face, knocking him to the floor with a thud.
A shot rang out before anyone else knew what had happened, the small but surprisingly agile Caldari woman pointing her pistol toward the wound in the Deteis’ kneecap as he cried out in agony.
As Kyoko faced the inebriated and armed but now suddenly terrified crowd, stood or seated with wide eyes in her direction, she realized the only thing keeping them from pulling their guns was the glimpse most of them got of the two adjacent sockets at the base of her neck.
Holstering her Hyasyoda .44 caliber rail pistol with her face contorted in disgust, she walked out of the room and into the busy street uncontested. She had made up her mind for the last time.